


Eccedentesiast (n); someone who hides pain behind a smile

by moonjidaisy



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Author projecting through Han Jisung, Depression, Eating Disorders, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mention of Blood and Scars, Night walk, Panic Attacks, Self-Destruction, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vent Writing, all members mentioned at least once, implied OT8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonjidaisy/pseuds/moonjidaisy
Summary: Even when things are rough, I love you.I’m here for you, through everything.or;Jisung's depression has caused him to become even more self-destructive, and Minho just wanted him to allow himself to be healed and comforted.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Eccedentesiast (n); someone who hides pain behind a smile

**Author's Note:**

> if I can be honest, this is just a 4 AM word vomit of self-projection through Jisung. I swear I love minsung with all my heart so please don't hate me for writing this and making them go through all of this pain in this fic. Also, the song Jisung sing in this fic is Seventeen-Hug (i just think it worth mentioning)  
> Enjoy!<3
> 
> also please don't read this if you're triggered with description of scars, self-harm, self-destruction, anxiety and depression.

_One, two, three._

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three-_

“Fuck,” he cursed, voice squeaking just above a whisper.

_It hurts._

Jisung's head felt empty, but also too crowded at the same time. All he could see was a white blinding light, despite his eyelids having completely shut.

He couldn’t breathe, as if his throat was being choked with a huge tennis ball, leaving it burning and untouched from the cold air. His heart pounding desperately against his ribcage, in an attempt to remind him that he was still alive, despite the thoughts of dying lingered freely inside his headspace.

Cold sweat running freely from his forehead, which he couldn’t care less—he was busy gasping for air. The sneering pain roamed all over his body, everything was starting to hurt. 

His nose red and stinging from the amount of snorts he did, his eyes hurt and swollen—from both crying and the amount of pressure his hand applied to his poor eyelid, trying to stop the blinding light from hurting him.

He will never get used to it, that was what he thought. He has spent almost every single night like this, shaking under the blanket on the cold floor; with tears running down his cheeks and fist inside his mouth—trying to muffle all the sobs so the members won’t hear him.

Hugging his own knees, he drowned his head inside. His lips parted, trying to sing any songs that made it into his empty mind; as an attempt to distract himself from every pain that he had going on right now. 

_himdeul ttaemyeon naegero_

_(whenever it’s hard for you)_

_angyeodo dwae nado gata_

_(Hold on to me, I feel the same)_

His singing came out as a mere whisper, quiet enough so the others (especially Jeongin who shared the room with him) won’t be able to hear. Jisung shuddered, his lips trembling as other words came out like a whine; shaky and unidentified. 

His breath slowly becoming more steady and even, the white light on his eyes subtly disappeared, turned back into pitch-black color. He gazed up to the window, watching the thin curtains getting rattled with the chilly night wind. The silver moon hanging above the sky, shining softly with no dark clouds blanketing over her. 

“It’s the full moon,” he said to himself.

And the next thing he knew, he was walking on the street. Alone with the sound of distant frogs and crickets, wandering around and continuously walking his feet, while relying on the streetlights to guide his way. 

It was not his first time trying to find a brief glint of peace within the darkness of the night. He has been doing it since forever. Despite their busy schedule and producing works with Chan and Changbin, he still did it. Sometimes he went out at 3 or 4 AM—after making sure the oldest was already deep inside his sleep and Felix had finished playing games—and got back around 6, right before either Seungmin or Minho woke up. 

Jisung used to love the sun, and with the other members and fans calling him “a fluff ball of sunshine” as a nickname, he couldn’t find any reason to hate the sun. 

Until he started falling apart, and the sun lights started to feel like it was pricking his eyes in the most painful way possible.

The sunrise and the word “tomorrow” terrified him.

He found the night more comfortable to settle in, to walk around the street in the middle of darkness, staring at the moon and the stars. He never knew where the start of his mess was, since when he felt the night more comfortable? Since when he felt like staying up at night and hoping the morning would never come? Since when did he let himself drown deeply, deciding to give up on fighting his self-destruction thoughts? 

Suffering every single night crying under the blanket—that used to be warm and comfy for him to wrap himself with; but not anymore. And he himself now finds it more comfy to feel the cold air of the night, despite the aching feelings it gives whenever it hits his throat. 

He was walking really slow, the cold breeze of the night slapping on his bare skin but he didn’t bother to grab at least a hoodie to cover him up before he went out. He just wore his short-sleeve white t-shirt and short pants he usually puts on whenever he wanted to sleep, which is a pretty dumb choice to wore in the middle of fall. 

But he kept walking, diving inside his thoughts. If he could just be honest, he wanted to end it. Everything he had. He wanted to let them go.

But he couldn’t.

His mind traveled to a memory a few months ago when he went home after a while. A smile his mom granted to him as she opened the door seemed forced, and Jisung immediately realized why, when he got inside and saw a mess in the living room. 

The smell of alcohol from soju bottles scattered all over the floor hit his nose hard, making him feel acid on his throat and the urge to throw up. 

_“He did it again?” he asked, eyed hovered in disbelief._

_His mom only answered with a slight nod, and with the faint light of a lamp on the side of the pantry, he could see a pair of tired dark sacks hanging under her eyes._

_Jisung let out a distressed sigh, approaching his mom slowly and sat in front of her. He took her cold hand on his palm, his thumb wiping her knuckles in a circle with so much affection._

_Jisung’s mom usually didn’t really enjoy getting hugged or touched, but she let Jisung caress her knuckles and lend a soft kiss on it. A fond smile crossing Jisung’s features, as his eyes met his mom’s pair of dark brown eyes—the same color Jisung has on his iris._

_His smile seemed to lit up the other’s face immediately, the fog of stress seemed to be lifted up from her for a split second. And Jisung couldn’t be more relieved, knowing that his presence has made his mom’s life get better, even just for a moment._

_“How many?” he asked, his eyes still casted to the strongest woman he ever encountered, the woman he loved the most. He will definitely risk his life completely if it’s about her._

_“7 million won,” she replied._

_His eyes widened. He thought he won't be surprised anymore, considering it's not a new thing for his dad to went home while getting drunk and spent a lot of money for another round of betting game. But 7 million won? that's beyond his imagination._

_“What the hell,”_

_“Is he fucking crazy?” he asked, his tone high. He didn’t seem to bother with the fact that he just used curse words at that point._

_But his gaze softened immediately, trying so hard to not express any anger to his mom. She was already hurting so much. And he didn’t want to add any burden into her shoulders._

_The only thing he could do was smile, pulling her into a hug and letting her cry into his shoulder while biting his bottom lips in order to not break down crying in front of her._

_He didn’t want her to feel guilty for relying on him. He has to be strong, for his mom, and himself as well._

The first time he went out to walk at night was when Seungmin caught him throwing away his food to the trash can. Seungmin scolded him, telling him that he shouldn’t waste the food and he didn’t have to get skinnier. That he was enough. 

It was weird how Seungmin’s comforting words only ended up getting on his nerves. He felt irritated. He was mad that Seungmin caught him, and the fact that Seungmin was wrong. Completely wrong. 

He wasn’t trying to get skinnier. He just had enough. Knowing the meal he used to love couldn’t satisfy him or make him happy anymore, knowing that he enjoyed the sound his stomach made, growling desperately asking for food and trying to eat themselves. He enjoyed the pain he felt, reminding him that he was still alive within the numb-inhospitable world he was walking on. 

So that night, he sneaked outside the dorm. Walking on his tiptoes, trying to not make any sounds as he grabbed his shoes and cracked the door open. 

He left his phone on his bed. Not because he felt safe to walk around without any communication devices. He just wanted to be lost. Or maybe, a part of himself just wanted to be found.

He walked, walked and kept walking nowhere. He just let his feet move on its own, while his mind wandered into another headspace despite the continuous siren ringing from distance terrifying him. 

He got back at 5, dashing into his room, and he heard Minho’s door screech open as Jisung closed his own. 

The second one was when he changed his outfit between stages with Hyunjin. Hyunjin suddenly stopped changing his white shirt into a long-sleeve sweater he already had on his hand, his fingers pointed into Jisung’s left side on his stomach. Jisung really thought he was going to point out how his abs had started to disappear from the lack of a workout, but it wasn’t those words that came out of Hyunjin’s lips. 

“What happened to your tummy, Sungie? Why are there scars on there?” 

_Holy crap._

“It’s nothing,” Jisung replied. His hand busily pulling the shirt down, covering his body completely. 

“I scratched it because it was itching last night,” he added. 

“Y'know, mosquitoes and such.”

Jisung could tell from the way Hyunjin’s eyebrows pulled closer, forming a frown that he didn’t believe him. But he couldn’t tell him anything. His tongue stunned, and he decided to ignore the questioning look Hyunjin threw at him as they finished changing their outfit and walked together from the changing room. Hyunjin never asked him anything after that.

Jisung has always asked the other member to let him change his clothes alone since then, completely aware that the scars have gotten multiple times wider than before. He didn’t want the other to question him about it if they ever saw his scars. 

Explaining the satisfaction of pain he got whenever he felt his nails digging on his skin and the stinging touch of cold water brushing over it, causing their bathroom floor flushed with blood every time he took shower was the least thing he wanted to do. And they won’t understand it anyway. 

The third one was when Chan caught him peeling his lip skin off while they were working on a song together, creating a bloody mess between his skinny fingers and staining all over the papers. Jisung lied and said it was the habit he picked up since a long time before they met, but he could see from the look Chan gave to him and his quiet "okay" as a reply that he didn’t trust him. 

The oldest keep holding Jisung’s hand whenever they sit next to each other since then, causing him to not be able to do it anymore. And Jisung won’t deny, he respected it. He respected the fact that Chan cares about him, but not his actions of stopping Jisung from doing it.

Changbin might also already notice the way he always wrote depressing lyrics and struggled to write a happy one, but he never asked him. Only God knows why, maybe Changbin doesn’t care enough to ask, or he just didn’t want to push the younger to tell him everything. The first one definitely makes more sense to Jisung, and he chose to believe it was the reason. 

He found himself lost in the middle of nowhere that night, and spent almost 3 hours to figure out the way to get back to his dorm. He managed to get back, finding Minho already awake and saying good morning to him. The older was making an omelet for breakfast and he offered Jisung some, which he refused with a forced grin on his face. 

Minho was his boyfriend for almost 3 years, and still is. The one and only person Jisung still could find warmth and comfort whenever he’s around. He loves him, but also scared. So he kept a good amount of distance from him. He didn't want to pull Minho to fall with him and lose his only comfort place.

Jisung has always wanted to be a comforter, not the one who needs comfort. He always wanted to be the happy pill, not the sad one. But the world slapped him on the face, telling him that he was the one who needed it the most. But he couldn't care less, he didn't want to be healed.

The fourth one was Felix. 

_It was a rough night. They were having a schedule in Japan and they were sleeping at a hotel. Jisung’s roommate was Felix, and Felix has been asleep since 10 PM out of tiredness._

_Jisung, however, kept tossing himself around his bed, causing it to let out some squeaking sounds against the wood. He couldn’t sleep. His mom hasn’t answered his text since afternoon and he was extremely worried._

_He groaned, reaching out his hand to grab his phone on the side of his head. He swiped his finger up, unlocking his phone and checked his kakaotalk once more. It was still empty. Twenty messages he sent to his mom were left unread, and his tenth call that night remained unanswered._

_The fear started to take over his mind, his back shuddered, and his hands starting to tremble. He tried his best to stay calm, but his chest felt heavy as if someone just put a dumbbell on it. Tears filling his eyes, and at that point, he knew he couldn’t hold it. He unwrapped himself from the blanket immediately, and walked to the bathroom in a rush._

_He slid down to the cold floor, hugging his own knees and buried his head deep inside it. Choked sobs slipped out of his lips, his throat burnt, and he couldn’t find himself taking breath with no pain on his chest as he did. “What if something bad happened to her”, “What if she got sick and passed out alone”, every worst scenario started forming inside his mind, hurting no one but his own._

_A whining cry slipped out, it was loud. But Jisung was too deep inside his negative thoughts to realize that Felix could awaken from his cries._

_“Jisung?” a voice was heard, followed with a few knocks on the bathroom door._

_“Are you there?”_

_Receiving nothing but continuous sobs and cries, Felix decided to rotate the doorknob. It was not locked, so he could open it only to find Jisung crying and shaking on the floor._

_A shocked gasp escaped his mouth, before he ran into Jisung and crouched down in front of him with a worried look. He called Jisung’s name repeatedly, asking him what happened, but Jisung remained silent. He heard Felix stand up, and he immediately held his hand to stop him._

_“Don’t go,” he said._

_“Don’t tell the others”_

_Felix let out a sigh, before he moved Jisung’s wrist into his little palm, caressing his knuckles and put his hand back into his knees._

_“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just trying to grab you a glass of water,” he replied._

_Felix never talked or brought up any topic about that night anymore._

And since then, walking alone at night has become a habit to him. Whenever he felt the air around the dorm was suffocating, whenever he had a bad day, he would simply wait for the others to sleep and sneaked out. 

Jeongin seemed to notice that he never found Jisung on his bed whenever he woke up randomly in the middle of the night, but Jisung reassured him that he was in the bathroom. The younger believed him. 

Jisung stared into his watch, realizing it was almost 6:30 in the morning. He surely fucked up. The others might already awake and they will realize he was missing. Holding onto a hope that Minho slept late last night—so he will be too tired to wake up early as he used to do—, he rushed. Running back into the dorm. 

When he arrived, the lamps were still off. He walked slowly, removing his shoes and tossed them into the floor. He peeked into the living room, reassuring himself that there was no one there. 

His hand rested right on his room's doorknob when he heard a voice.

“Hannie”

Jisung froze. There was only one person who called him with that name off-stage. And from the fondness the voice held that always gives a gentle touch of comfort into his eardrums, he definitely knew who it was.

Lee Minho.

“Yeah, what happened?” he asked, trying to maintain his poker face.

“Help me make some breakfast,” he answered.

“This early???” the younger asked, a questioning frown slipped on his face.

“Yeah, you don't have to do anything, though. I just don't want to do it alone”

Minho turned on the lamp in the kitchen with a click, opening the grey fridge and grabbed a pack of bread. Jisung sat on the dining table, his fingers tapping on the wood, creating a messy piece of rhythmical music into their ears.

Jisung observed his boyfriend's movements carefully. The way he washed the pan, the way his fingers flicked the stove on, the way he flipped the toasted bread with the pan as if he was making an omelet—and dropping some crumbs to the floor—followed with contagious giggles and a word “whoops” escaped from his lips. 

Minho was clumsy sometimes, but Jisung always found it endearing to watch.

To know that between the unfamiliar worlds full of mortals he lived in, he could still find himself smiling upon a human embodiment of the prettiest moon. To know that maybe life doesn’t hate him that much after all, for a person who begs for the world’s mercy like him to get to witness Minho’s smile and find comfort within. 

There were a lot of things Jisung choose to hide behind a sweet smile he always offered to his boyfriend and his members, and Minho knew about it. Minho noticed how Jisung's jokes and peals of laughter were slowly becoming blunt and bitter. It feels like he was not enjoying himself and only doing it for the others to not worry about him. 

Minho has always known, he just never asked about it, afraid that the younger will only pull himself even further away from him than he already did.

“This is for me,” Minho said, sliding a plate of toast into the dining table.

“And this one is for you, my princess,” he continued, placing another plate in front of Jisung whose head was resting on his arm on the table, his eyelids half-opened.

Jisung shook his head, pushing the plate away from him and buried his head inside his arm again. His puffy cheeks pressed to the cold table.

“I don't want to have a meal this early, hyung..” he said, his words slightly muffled but Minho could still get his words right.

Minho placed his palm on Jisung's hand, sweeping over his tan skin really gently. It pricked his heart to see Jisung like this, knowing that the younger was fighting a silent battle he would never share with anyone. Not even the one he said he found comfort in every time he's around.

“Just a bite? you barely eat anything since yesterday, love,” he said, there was a glint of despair in his tone.

“Since last week,” Jisung said, correcting the other's words. He brought his chin up, beaming softly into Minho. He let out a soft sigh and said, 

“Fine. I'll take two bites and that's it,”

“Feed me,” he said in cutesy.

Minho immediately smiled seeing a faint spark of excitement slowly residing back into Jisung’s eyes. And his smile only got wider when he fed the younger the toast with butter on top of it—which was Jisung's favorite. 

He watched how his cheeks puffed up, moving up and down as he chewed the toast. He finished his second bite and said,

“Done. Now eat yours, hyung.”

Minho cupped Jisung's face, wiping away the brown crumbs on the edge of his lips. His hand moved upwards, caressing Jisung's darkened eye bags under his round eyes with his knuckles. A look of worries crossing his features.

“You should sleep, love. You look worn out,” he said.

“You know how much I want to, hyung. But I can't,” the younger replied, his hands wiping over his eyelid. 

“Besides, I don't want the night to end soon, if I sleep I will wake up and it's morning already,” he continued.

“But you can't keep doing this to yourself, Hannie. I love you,”

Jisung sighed, and he proceeded to bury his head in between his arms again.

“Finish your breakfast, hyung. I want to sleep,” he stated.

Within a few minutes, Minho finished his toast and saw Jisung dozing off on the dining table. His pale face contrasting with the dark oak wood the cold table was made of. 

Minho looked at his princess with a comforting stare, but there were worries and fears hidden behind it. 

His eyes roamed over Jisung's sleeping face, noticing that his bottom lip has gained more teeth marks than the last time Minho saw it, with some dark bits of drying blood around it. His eye bags got darker from the lack of sleep, and the subtle teeth marks around his fist were starting to get red and swell.

Minho took Jisung's hand, opening his fist and finding scratches of crescent-shaped scars all around his palm. It was still red and slightly wet, so Minho walked to the pantry to grab a medical kit, opened the box with a click, and pulled out a bottle of alcohol 70% and a pack of cotton.

He flicked the cap open, dumping a generous amount of alcohol onto the cotton, and started to wipe Jisung's palm carefully—so he won't wake the younger up from his sleep. 

Thankfully, Jisung seemed to fall asleep deeply, not even flinching when Minho cleaned the scars on his palm and the old scars on his wrist—which Jisung peeled the dark skin off and made it bleed again.

After everything was clear and Jisung's scars were treated, Minho carried Jisung who was still sleeping into his room. He knew it would be more comfortable for him to sleep on Minho's bed instead of his own, so he brought him there. 

Ignoring Seungmin’s questioning look on him when he opened the door, he placed Jisung onto his bed really carefully. A faint smile appeared on his face when Jisung squirmed a little—adjusting his position—and letting out a small whine with soft snores from his lips.

Minho pulled the red blanket to cover his small body and keep him warm, patting his head softly before sitting on his working desk. 

His eyes still fixed into Jisung, who was flinching a little when he laid on his left side. He approached him, crouching down beside his ears, running his thumb over the younger's cheeks and whispered,

“Even when things are rough, I love you.

I’m here for you, through everything.”

Minho was hurt. It hurts so much for him to see Jisung suffering like that. But he could bear it. Jisung might hide everything from him but still try to find comfort in him, so he will give it. If that's all he needs to stay, he will be his source of comfort.

_I will be there with you, reaching out my hands for you to hold on to._

_I will be the shoulder for your head to rest on whenever the world gets harsh on you._

_I will be one to hug you and let you cry on my chest whenever you're scared._

_If only you let your guard down,_

_and let me feel your pain as well._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this mess :)  
> I hope you never went through any of this pain and continue living your life happily!  
> kudos and comments are highly appreciated!  
> love lots and have a nice day/night.


End file.
